


Just How We Do

by edel_im



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: F/M, Medical School, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:19:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5062690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edel_im/pseuds/edel_im
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding something good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just How We Do

It's a kind of feeling - something that was forboding, something she knew all too well the ending to. That didn't stop her from meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror, his look of amusement causing a familiar buzz through her back and straight to her stomach. She liked the way he looked at her - as if she was a habit. It was warm, almost natural.

 

_"Elle, where do you want to eat?"_

 

_"Why should I decide?"_

 

_"You're the group leader. You authorize everything."_

 

_"Don't put me in control of your stomach, you might regret it."_

 

Someone volunteers for desserts first, another whines about his craving for burger. A third person reprimands them for eating so unhealthily and an argument starts about the pot calling the kettle black.

 

They remain quiet, grinning at their seats. Their eyes meet through the mirror again. He rolls them, her eyes crinkle further. He winks then, and she could barely stem her smile.

 

It was crazy how she could be out of breath so quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

Elle talks, he responds. Yunho's quiet, she reads him. At the hospital they work like two fitted gears in a well-oiled machine. Outside, they thrive in the other's instinctive knowledge of their interests. It baffles their friends - how well they could go together. It intrigues them - how they only connected now, when they had four years of medical school to get introduced.

 

They talk more often - during duty days, over SMS, when they go out. He shotguns for her when he's driving, to the comical disappointment of his self-appointed wingman. He seeks her in the crowd, she waves him over when he comes. He sings  _I Won't Tell A Soul_ and when she's caught humming  _I Have A Lover_  he teases along, eyes lingering a fraction of a second longer.

 

The fire starts low and constant. Sometimes she forgets it exists.

* * *

 

They share a cake because they both liked that flavor and it was the last piece. She wanted to cut it in half, he told her she was missing out on the thrill of sharing. At the end of the day someone was going to get the last, big, satisfactory bite and the other will have to suck it up because that's just how it goes. She argues that having two last bites instead of fighting for one keeps the sharing parties from fighting. He sighs, smiling at her, "And here I was hoping you'd think me a gentleman when I leave the last piece for you."

 

Her surprise is masked by her smile and there went the warm buzz again. "I might think you're a loser for giving it up." He makes a face at her answer, his arm brushing hers as he reaches for her fork, his own suspiciously falling by accident seconds ago. His nonchalance isn't missed, and their friend knowingly smiles from across the table.

 

He talks, everybody listens. She's quiet and only he can read her. When it got colder, he shifted closer. When he missed a shot at beer pong, she gained it for him, and let him have the drink too.

 

At the end of the night, he dropped her off at the dorm, handing over a brown bag.

 

"Open it later", he says, and drives off after a wink.

 

She hurries to her room, tossing the keys to the bed before eagerly looking into the bag and laughing.

 

He had taken out the last piece of the cake. And on the cover of the container was a note,

 

_Loser for you any day. ;) Goodnight Elle._


End file.
